I am a gym goer. I have been for twelve years. Going for a workout is the only part of my day that I get to be selfish. It is there that I can tune out the world and concentrate on bettering myself both physically and mentally. It never fails to bring me out of a bad mood, and always guarantees to enable a good sleep at the end of the day. It has always been one of my favourite pastimes.
I was recently told at 30 weeks that I had to stop going to the gym. For the last five years of our marriage, it has served as many date nights, a shared interest, a ton of humorous conversations, a mood lifter, and an overall constant routine in our lives. Now, it will remain a thing of the past and not-so-distant-future.
These photos were taken to commemorate my last visit to the gym, at nearly 7 months into my pregnancy. In fact, it was at the gym where I had discovered that we were going to have a baby! I had taken a pregnancy test in the bathroom stall, not thinking at all that it would be positive. After seeing the results, I cried and cried, sent a picture to my husband, called my mum and sister, then had a workout. I will never forget that, and find it quite funny today.
So, goodbye friend. Until it is medically safe to meet again. (Above is my bump at 15 weeks. That was my first visit back after 11 weeks of morning sickness.)
Guys, you all have been so kind with your words and wishes regarding our recent wedding anniversary. Do you know what? I yearn to hear your own stories as to how you met and married your significant other (both past or present). I just love a good love story.
If you feel like sharing, please comment below! I will certainly be responding to those brave souls who do.
“A candle throws its light into the darkness, In a nasty world, so shines the good deed. Make sure the fortune, that you seek Is the fortune that you need.
So tell me why, the first to ask, Is the last to give, every time? What you say and do not mean, Follows you close behind.”
– Ben Harper, Diamonds on the Inside
There are generally two classes of individuals; the givers and the takers. I do not know where I personally know where I stand. As someone who often self-deprecates, I automatically think that I am a taker, even if I don’t always indulge in selfish tendencies. When it comes to people and things that I love, such as my animals, store, friends, and family members, even at the library where I work, I know that I am a giver to a fault. Yet, because I am a human being and am biologically wired to self-preserve, isn’t it second nature to want to be a taker and put ourselves first? These are the dilemmas and dichotomies that I often consider in my journey to be a more humble and giving human being.
Last week Geoffrey and I went to see The Fight Club in the theatres. The movies theatres in our city frequently play classic films that they turn into a one-night event. When they do, we try to go. I’ve blogged about it here, here, and here. On the night that we went, there was something different in the air. When we showed up, the theatre doors were locked even though there was a film playing at that very moment. A crowd of us gathered outside, confused, but laughing and trying to figure out a way to get in since the next movie was playing in 30 minutes. One of us finally did, and suddenly, 10 or so strangers quickly became acquainted as we waited inside and in line for tickets. I’m not too sure as to what happened next, but for some reason, the first person paid for the next movie-goer in line. That person then paid for the next, and so on, until it came to us. My first thought was, ‘woo-hoo! Free ticket!’ but that would have defeated the purpose of this random act of generosity. Before I could do anything, Geoffrey asked for two tickets. One was for himself, and the other, for the person behind us since mine was free. I’m not sure if this continued down the line to when the last person didn’t have to pay for their ticket, but I certainly hope that it did. For this kindness to happen at a movie like The Fight Club, I thought that it was both fitting and contradictory given that the film centres on acts of community (albeit destructive ones).
I haven’t come across many instances of paying it forward. However, when I do, they stick with me for a long time. When they do occur, I am usually in line at a coffee shop and someone either pays for my order, or hands me something free with my order (a napkin rose, for instance). I am always caught off guard, but my day is instantly made better. One such instance was when I was a broke student and in university. The girl in front of me paid for my coffee and told the staff to give me her business card that she had left behind. I was so grateful and didn’t get a chance to thank her. Yet, I think that’s what makes it more special for the giver. The fact that they do it out of the goodness of their hearts and are not looking for any acknowledgement. Still, I kept the card for a long time since I had always meant to email her and thank her for being so kind. Inevitably, the busy, forgetful, and somewhat selfish student in me never did. Even though it was many years ago, I still think about it and regret not contacting her to show her my appreciation.
The morning after we went to the theatres, I visited a coffee shop for some much needed caffeine. I was on my way to my store, and rather than joining the drive-thru queue at the back of the line, I had to cut through the alley and pull up at a point that forces you to join halfway through the line, cutting everyone else off. I personally hate when people sneak in this way, and try to avoid it at all costs. This morning, because of traffic, I couldn’t avoid it at all. I held back and tried letting everyone else go ahead of me in order to wait for a spot at the back of the line, but I was holding up traffic in the alley and the drivers behind me were getting impatient. Suddenly, someone in the drive-thru generously waived me through and let me go in front of them, taking me to the front of the line. Embarrassed but thankful, I went ahead. Still on a giving high from the night before, and remembering the time that a stranger paid for my coffee and left her card, I thought, ‘now’s my chance to pay it forward.’ I pulled ahead, paid for my order and the individual’s behind me, and told the staff to hand them my business card. I never received an email thanking me, but in reality, I am glad.
Maybe the issue of being a giver or a taker isn’t so black and white after all.
Today is Friday, and I couldn’t be more excited for the weekend. Although I will be working all day on both Saturday and Sunday, it will be nice to have a few days off from blogging. Not that I won’t miss your pretty faces and awesome comments! I think you can all relate when I say that sometimes, it’s just exhausting.
That being said, I am so thankful for this blog and how it has afforded me many opportunities as a writer, photographer, and now store owner. I have seen an increase in sales from my followers who find me on WordPress or Instagram, and then purchase my items through said social media platforms (compared to a year ago when my blog was not as well-known).
Last month I officially opened the doors to Potomac Trading Post, Ltd., and the level of success that I had in one month far exceeded my expectations. Even though I am only open for a few hours a day on a few days of the week, what I made in one month amounted to what would have taken me five months when my store was solely online. The results floored me.
So thank you to those of you who not only read my blog on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis, but especially to those of you who have purchased an item from my store. You are doing your part to support a small business, as well as supporting someone who took a leap of faith and decided to follow one of her many dreams. Because of you, I am soaring.
Happy Monday, friends! In the recent months, I’ve been writing much about my love for my dogs and the role that they play in my life. Being an animal lover is something that I have inherited from my mum. Below is a story that not only was written by my mum, but is one that I feel needs to be told. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I do. :-)))
<3
Emory
“Is anybody old enough to remember the novel Black Beauty? Classic. At the end of the book, Beauty, a twenty-something broken down horse, a shadow of his former spirited self, is sold for pennies and sent to his last home. A groomer sees him and stops in his tracks. He pats the horse and tells him he looks like Beauty, a colt he knew years ago.
“Now my true story: my Tuscan started his career on the racetrack, twenty-one years ago. He was sold many times as a jumper. The last owners were going to euthanize him as he couldn’t jump anymore. He lives here. With me. As my new farrier and I were trimming hooves I called Tuscan over. The farrier looked over and in disbelief said, “Tuscan? Tuscan! It IS you!” He had put shoes on Tuscan all those years ago when he was racing and had never seen him again.
“He has since trimmed Tuscan many times since that incredible meeting. He says my big guy looks great, and this chance meeting gives me shivers. My Tuscan is a lamb. And he has stolen my heart.”
Hello! My name is Emory. I am a wife, mother of four (three on earth in heaven). This is our life on the Canadian prairies.
email: helloscarlettblog@outlook.com
I am a gym goer. I have been for twelve years. Going for a workout is the only part of my day that I get to be selfish. It is there that I can tune out the world and concentrate on bettering myself both physically and mentally. It never fails to bring me out of a bad mood, and always guarantees to enable a good sleep at the end of the day. It has always been one of my favourite pastimes.
I was recently told at 30 weeks that I had to stop going to the gym. For the last five years of our marriage, it has served as many date nights, a shared interest, a ton of humorous conversations, a mood lifter, and an overall constant routine in our lives. Now, it will remain a thing of the past and not-so-distant-future. 
These photos were taken to commemorate my last visit to the gym, at nearly 7 months into my pregnancy. In fact, it was at the gym where I had discovered that we were going to have a baby! I had taken a pregnancy test in the bathroom stall, not thinking at all that it would be positive. After seeing the results, I cried and cried, sent a picture to my husband, called my mum and sister, then had a workout. I will never forget that, and find it quite funny today. 
Hello, Scarlett Blog 
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